


Trapped

by quietpastelcolours



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, I'm not sure yet, and a fair amount of angsty hatred, but could potentially be a series!, features imprisonment, most likely a one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:44:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietpastelcolours/pseuds/quietpastelcolours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ganondorf has been imprisoned for the past three centuries by his wife, Zelda. He cannot move, blink, speak, eat, or even breathe - he's stuck inside his mind, existing rather than living. And then Zelda shows up to free him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> So this is most likely going to be a oneshot (it came to me in a dream and I was scrambling to get it all written down before I forgot), but I like the premise, and when I'm finished with the other stuff I'm writing at the moment, who knows? I may come back and turn this into a series.

That’s all he could remember. Lost pieces of himself from eons past.

Time blurred together, moving so slowly he thought he’d scream. But it did no good to scream; he knew that much, at least. He’d exhausted himself in the early days, _months_ , he corrected silently screaming himself hoarse, abandoning his pride in the rush of fear that set in once the reality of his situation set in.

Ganondorf Dragmire was trapped. Was that even his name? The question was rhetorical, he knew, but he had been imprisoned so long sometimes he wondered if he truly was Ganondorf Dragmire; he had his memories, but were they real? Was this _suffering_ really his reality, or was this some cruel trick, was he some inanimate object given consciousness by an unfeeling being learned in the divine arts, left to suffer unmoving existence, not life, for all eternity?

These thoughts were all his company through the bleak and unchanging hours. At least, he assumed they were hours. He didn’t know anymore.

_No_. If he concentrated hard enough, he was conscious of his fingers. Dully, Ganondorf recalled a time when he had been aware of his lower body, of his legs. They had disappeared some time ago, stolen away when he wasn’t paying attention. He couldn’t turn his head; couldn’t check to make sure.

He gritted his teeth; or at least, he imagined doing so. The only part of his body, if he had one, that he could move were his eyes. That’s not to say he could blink; simply, he could roll the balls in their sockets if he so desired, thanking every deity there was that he was afforded this small mercy. Now he thought about it, Ganondorf supposed this was further proof that he was in fact real; how could he move his eyes if he were merely a rock or a leaf?

In the early days, he’d nearly burst blood vessels trying to get his eyes to see past the confines of his unmoving head; he’d been here for so long, yet had no idea of his location. Ganondorf had all but given up on finding out; nothing ever happened here.

Movement struck him out of the corner of his eyes, and he watched greedily as a small insect moved into view, scuttling along the rough stone floor. He watched the small bug pause to rub its feelers together, then scuttle on. Ganondorf silently begged the insect to stay, to help break the monotony for a few minutes at least. He felt a moment of scorn at this; the once mighty Demon King, reduced to pleading with insects. He felt a moment of pleasure; he was the Demon King, the _Gerudo_ King.

Ganondorf spent long minutes basking in the memory of his people, wondering where they were and what they were doing. He’d been gone so long; or so he assumed – did they mourn him? Was he dead to them? A flash of fear; had they survived without him? The hardships of the Gerudo; his motives, many of them, were to preserve and persevere. How could they hope to barter with Hyrule without him?

_Hyrule_.

A fresh wave of pain pierced him; and he tried and failed to shut unblinking eyes as the memory of his wife assailed him. Wife? No. _Traitor_. She’d betrayed him; she’d _trapped_ him. Zelda had deceived him; she’d let him believe she loved him, and he’d loved her – she’d used that love and seduced him into lowering his guard and incarcerated him. How? Ganondorf felt a wave of anger, and he’d have ground his teeth if he could.

_Bitch_.

He wanted so dearly to escape, to leave, to wring her slender neck and peel the flesh from her bones, to hear her screams and pleas for mercy. He would not grant her compassion – not after this.

_If I escape at all._

Fear overtook him, stealing away non-existent breath and turning his already heavy form, or what was left of it to ice. He’d been here so long… how long, Ganondorf wasn’t sure, but he knew it was longer than Zelda had to live on this earth. If she was dead, who would free him? Who could? He’d be trapped alone in his thoughts for all eternity.

A sound suddenly caught his attention, and he attempted to furrow his brow. It sounded like… footsteps over the dripping water that never ceased. The sound had driven him mad in the beginning, but now he longed for the sound – lived for the reminder he was in a real place, that he wasn’t floating in limbo.

Footsteps?

A thrill of… what? Excitement? Joy? _Rapture?_ This person… maybe they could free him.

He tried once more to move, to unstick his frozen mouth. What if he was hidden? What if this person moved right past him and left? Ganondorf didn’t think he could stand the disappointment. To almost taste freedom, to have the sugar an inch from his lips and have it snatched away… he’d rather die then exist one second longer in this hell.

The footsteps drew closer, and if he had been able to draw breath, he’d have panted from the anticipation. All his senses strained towards picking out the footsteps and trying to work out if they approached him or not. He needn’t have bothered; the owner of the feet whose steps echoed as they did knew precisely who he was and why he was trapped – in fact, she had been the one to put him there.

Ganondorf strained to see who approached him as the person stopped just out of his line of sight; he thought he’d die from the suspense, and then, as the person’s feet moved into his vision, he’d have given anything for them to never have come.

The feet were enclosed in sturdy yet delicate boots in cream leather; over the top of them hung a silk skirt encrusted with delicate embroidery in gold thread. The style of her clothes was unfamiliar, but as her scent drifted into his nose, Ganondorf scowled furiously at the feet of her Majesty Queen Zelda Nohansen.

_His wife._

Zelda frowned slightly at the immobile form of her husband. It had been years since she’d last seen him; three hundred and twenty seven, to be exact. He looked precisely the same as he’d looked when she’d trapped him here; a colossus clad in battle scarred armour, positioned on bended knee with both palms laid flat upon the ground, his head bent to face the earth.

She’d trapped him here in this dank cave, supposedly for all eternity, yet only three centuries had passed. Zelda had expected to age and die, yet she hadn’t – Ganondorf had not been killed, and so the cycle of this life time went unbroken – Wisdom and Courage could not yet leave this earth. She remained then, as the immortal Queen of Hyrule, and Courage – well, Courage had set off two centuries previously, and she hadn’t seen him since. It was this disappearance of the hero that brought her here. Am I making a mistake? She wondered. Maybe, but I have no alternative before me.

“Husband.” She said softly, but he did not respond. It took her a moment to remember that his jaw was sealed; he could not speak.

“I… know you cannot speak, but I hope that you can hear me.” Zelda sank slowly to her knees, reaching out a gloved hand just shy of touching his jaw. “I have come to set you free.”

Though he did not move, she could have sworn a shudder ran through his form.

Taking a deep breath, Zelda cupped his face in both hands, peeling back the shimmering golden layer of magic visible only to her, drawing it down to his shoulders. She didn’t think it wise to release him entirely just yet.

Ganondorf very slowly raised his head, the bones in his neck creaking ominously from their lack of movement, and she was not surprised to see the loathsome scowl that twisted his features, the hatred pouring from his eyes. She watched him look slowly around, taking in his surroundings, before his gaze returned to hers.

“You…” He rasped, voice hoarse. “Are no wife of mine.”

Zelda bowed her head lightly. “I suppose I deserve that. For what its worth, I am here in part to apologise.”

“Why?”

She understood the question for what it was. “I… was scared.” She said carefully. “The Triforce occasionally sees fit to grant me visions of the future, you know that. In the weeks preceding that of when I put you here, I had been having visions of a terrible future, in which you allowed Power to corrupt you. You succeeded in killing Courage and taking his Triforce, and you had taken Wisdom first, catching me unawares.” She took a deep breath. “The choice was hard… my people, or the man I loved. I-”

“Don’t.”

Zelda opened her eyes to meet his intense gaze. “Don’t what?” She asked uncertainly.

“Don’t say you loved me. Don’t _lie_.”

Ganondorf looked faintly pained under the anger, and Zelda let her fingertips brush lightly over his cheek. “I did love you. More than I can say. For all that I know it is foolish of me, I love you still.”

He shut his eyes for a moment, and when they opened such fury radiated from his face she flinched and shifted backwards slightly.

“Don’t do this.” He snarled. “Not now. Don’t do what you’ve done then tell me you loved me.”

“I did love you. I still do.”

Grief, curiously enough, warred with the anger on his face. “I hate you.” He spat. “I _despise_ you. I would rip you limb from limb and it would not be enough pain for the likes of _you_.”

Zelda closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. She’d expected this, but to hear it still hurt. “I know.” She whispered, conscious of a single tear making its way down her cheek. “And I don’t blame you. I just wanted you to know my actions were not carried out through hate.”

“Oh? Enlighten me.” Ganondorf’s voice was deep, dark, and dangerous. It thrilled her to hear him again.

Before she answered his question, Zelda leaned forwards and settled her hands on his shoulders, conscious of the suspicious look she received, then peeled the golden barrier back down to his waist, her magic receding as it followed her touch. Freed to the waist, Ganondorf straightened and stretched, bones cracking and popping as he shook off three centuries worth of inertia, and he took his first breath.

The complexity of her spell meant that he had been reduced from a living thing to one that merely existed – he needed not to breathe, sleep, drink or eat – his muscles did not atrophy, and he felt no discomfort from holding one position for so long. He slept, she knew, for though he didn’t need it, she had granted him one mercy from the monotony of time.

As his gaze once more settled on her face, Zelda looked away, her eyes falling to rest on her hands clasped before her. She was within his reach; if he attempted to kill her, he could.

“Release me.” He hissed instead.

“In time. Let me explain first.”

He folded his arms, clearly relishing the ability to do so. “Very well. Why?”

“Well… my vision showed me the destruction your freedom wrought, yet… I couldn’t bear the thought of your death.”

“So you condemned me to a living hell.” Ganondorf’s voice was scathing.

“I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that.”

Zelda took a deep breath. “Look… I had my reasons for doing this to you, and I want you to know that if I had my time over again, I would not have trapped you. I regretted it the second I cast that spell.”

Ganondorf tilted his head. “Then why not let me go?” There was an edge to his voice; one wrong answer and she’d be dead.

She sighed. “Because… I was scared. Scared of my visions, scared of your reaction, scared that my actions had created the monster I’d been trying to prevent. I don’t blame you for wanting me dead. Were our situations reversed, I’m sure I’d agree with you.” She paused and flicked a hesitant gaze at his face. “But… that’s not why I’m here.”

Ganondorf’s brows furrowed in curiosity. “So if you aren’t here out of the goodness of your heart, why are you here?” He drawled sarcastically.

“I need your help.”

Ganondorf stared at the woman in front of him and wondered when exactly Wisdom had lost her mind. _Help?_ She must be delusional if she thought he’d help _her_.

“And why exactly would I do that?” He inquired, flexing his fingers and relishing the movement.

Zelda sighed again, and he ran his gaze over her form. Her clothes were a curious construction indeed – not the simple pink and cream dress with decorative pauldrons she had once favoured, nor anything similar to the style. She wore… a long gown, yet the skirts were cut so they flared, rather than fall straight. The bodice was even more curious – a stiffly corseted construction that left her shoulders bare altogether, the material richly embroidered with floral motifs around the Hylian crest, rather than left plain. The only familiar thing about her, apart from her face, was her diadem. Ganondorf frowned. He surmised he’d been here for years, but wasn’t sure how many years. A decade, at least. Time blurred so much, he had lost track long ago.

“Since you have been gone, Hyrule has mostly been prosperous, but… in the last fifty years, an ancient evil has threatened us.”

Horror washed through him. “Fifty years?” He croaked. “ _Fifty?_ You left me here for fifty years?”

A flash of nervousness flashed over her features, and she stood up, carefully moving out of his reach. Ganondorf noted this with narrowed eyes. “Longer than fifty years.” He said suspiciously. “How long?”

Zelda wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Three hundred and twenty seven years this past April.” She said quietly.

“Three… hundred…” Ganondorf couldn’t get his words out. Collecting himself, he shook his head. “ _Impossible_. You’d be dead.”

She clasped her hands before her. “Ordinarily, yes. However, it seems that trapping you and moving you from a living being to an existing one, rather than break the cycle of this lifetime, as either your success or your defeat would, has instead frozen the cycle. If you are suspended in animation, the cycle cannot move forwards, and so Courage and I cannot age. It’s been three hundred years.”

Anger built up inside him. “You left me here to rot for _three centuries!”_ Ganondorf roared, and gritted his teeth when he saw the tears rolling down her face. Why was she crying? It couldn’t be genuine regret, could it? _No_. He hardened himself. Zelda was manipulating him – like she always did.

“I’m sorry.” She choked out, then sank to her knees, covering her face with her hands. “I should have released you – I should have trusted you –”

Ganondorf snorted. “Wisdom is incapable of trust.”

“I know! I wish I could trust, I really do, I just –” Zelda lowered her hands, her face blank once more. “I am flawed, and I know I am flawed. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but…”

He scowled. “Get to the point.” He snapped. “Why do you want my _help?”_

“Like I said, an ancient evil has risen to fill the gap left by your absence. I don’t know exactly who or what it is… only that it is hurting Hyrule. I’ve been having visions again.” Zelda’s eyes glimmered in the strangest fashion. “Two separate paths we have to take; we can’t diverge, we’ll be too late. The first; the evil wins, and we will both come back, yet we will inherit a scorched earth. If we do not take action, Hyrule – the world – is lost to both of us forever. The second path which tempts our fate features you.” She paused. “I don’t know where Link is; he left two centuries ago, seeking adventure. You know his spirit; without you, there is nothing tying him here. He has not returned, and my visions do not show him; he will not help in this battle. My visions show you fighting and defeating this evil.”

“And then? Will you return me to my prison?” He asked dryly, curious to see what she’d say; he’d by no means decided to _agree_.

“No.” Zelda met his gaze and bit her lip, and Ganondorf cursed silently – she was so beautiful – who gave her the right to remind him of when he’d loved her?

_I think you’ll find you love her still._

He frowned at the thought. _No_. He told himself sternly. The truth, however, was that when she’d said she still loved him, a glimmer of hope had awakened inside of his chest – a glimmer that wanted desperately to call her wife again. _No. She betrayed me. I can never forgive._

His gaze found Zelda’s as she took a deep breath. “You… may choose where you wish to go, but truth be told...” He waited impatiently for her to continue. “…I would wish you would return to me.”

Zelda twisted her fingers together as Ganondorf stared at her.

“You want me to…”

“Forget it.” She said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said it; I know you won’t want to.” She laughed harshly. “You hate me, after all.” She bit her lip again and looked away. “I ruined everything a long time ago.” She whispered at nothing in particular.

“You want…” Ganondorf was still staring at her, looking quite shocked.

“Never mind.” She said harshly, then moved forwards to undo the rest of the enchantment. Zelda spun around when he stood up, clenching her eyes tightly shut. If he was going to kill her, she didn’t want to see his face when he did.

Warm hands closed over her shoulders, and spun her gently around. Zelda opened her eyes on a gasp as Ganondorf pulled her closer and leaned down. He was so close she could taste his breath against her tongue, and she felt a wave of sadness. If this were before, she’d have kissed him and thought nothing of it, but now… what was he doing? Registering his expression, she furrowed her brow lightly; his face was drawn with… Confusion? Anger? Regret? _Longing_.

“Then I could call you wife again?” He murmured, voice low.

Her lips parted in shock, and his eyes darkened as he watched her. “What?” She whispered. “You _want_ …?”

Ganondorf kissed her then, the merest touch of his lips to hers, and then he crushed her against his chest and buried his face in her neck.

“My poison and my cure.” He mumbled in an agonised tone. Zelda barely registered his words, luxuriating in the feel of his body against her; she missed this, missed him.

“My temptation and my fascination.” She whispered back. “The way I feel about you is illogical at best, and yet…”

He chuckled harshly against her skin. “You’ll never explain matters of the heart with mere words, Zelda.”

She thrilled at her name on his lips. “I can certainly try.”

“You asked what I want. I _want_ to kill you. I should kill you now and be done with it.”

Zelda could barely breathe. This was a dangerous game she played, and she no longer held the cards. “So why don’t you?”

“I can’t.”

Ganondorf pulled back then, meeting her gaze as he tightened the arm around her waist.

“Why not?” She breathed. “You have every right.”

“I don’t know. Goddesses know it’d be easier if I could… but…” He stroked a hand down her cheek. “You tempt me more than any other.” He whispered. “Even after what you’ve done to me, I still want to uncover all your secrets.”

She managed a watery laugh. “I can’t say that I am not relieved.”

But he did not laugh in return. “I often told myself that should fate ever throw you in my path again, I’d snap your neck. What kind of fool am I to let you live? Am I this weak I cannot dispose of one small woman?”

Zelda let her eyes fall shut. “If it makes you feel better, I couldn’t kill you either. I thought – Courage – but the idea of leading him into the castle, leading you into a trap the likes of which you would not walk out of hurt me deeply. It may be weak of me, but I couldn’t kill you.”

“Why?”

She opened her eyes and laid a hand on his cheek. “You fascinate me, and you always have. Surely you know that. We’ve not been wed, but we’ve been joined for centuries. No other man is your superior; sometimes I wonder if my emotion is true, or if it is the Triforce that compels me to seek you out, but I do know this; no other man is or ever will be my equal the way you are.”

Golden eyes burned in the sockets, boring into hers. “It is much the same for me. Women… I don’t see their faces much, not in that way, but you… your wit, your acuity… you draw me to you.” Ganondorf took her hand from his cheek and brushed his lips over gloved knuckles. “You are like an ocean, my lady. Your waters are calm, tranquil and soothing, yet you are dangerous in a storm. I cannot resist you, it seems, for all my common sense tells me I am a fool. I must sail ever to the centre.”

She laughed shakily. “If you are a fool then I ought to give up my piece altogether; Wisdom cannot be very smart if she is drawn to Power like a moth to a flame.”

Ganondorf smiled a smile that resembled that of a shark; all pointed teeth and promises of violence. “Allow me to promise you something, Princess-wife. If you ever try to trap me, _betray_ me again. I will kill you. I will not allow my feelings for you take my freedom from me again.”

“I understand.” She breathed. “But… I don’t think I _could_ trap you again.” Zelda closed her eyes. Where were all these heartfelt confessions coming from? She’d told herself that when she came here, she’d apply for his help and leave it at that, and yet… she couldn’t seem to help the emotions spilling from her lips. “Each day I woke in a cold bed seemed to cut me further. I missed you, so much, and I could not put myself through that pain again.”

Golden eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and then he leaned down to take her mouth.

Ganondorf wasn’t entirely sure of what had just happened; he was supposed to kill her, damn it, not kiss her. Apparently, the order had gotten lost on the trip from his brain to his hands. As it was he didn’t think he could stop now, not with her body pressed firmly against his, one hand tight on her backside, the other tangled in her hair. Her hands were looped around his neck, and her lips… they were just as he remembered. Soft and sweet and so yielding to the demands of his, yet more than capable of holding their own. Zelda made a small aroused noise in the back of her throat, and then he burned for her. He wouldn’t kill her, no, not this time.

She was right; they were drawn to each other, always had been. Even in the midst of their fights to the death in lives long past, that flicker of attraction, not always sexual, but the need to know her mind always held firm on his consciousness. Ganondorf seriously doubted whether he’d ever get his fill of her; distantly, he wondered why he felt this pull, this ache which only she could fill. They were opposites; light and dark, two sides of the same coin, his antithesis, always on opposing sides of the battlefield – why then, were they apparently fated to come together again and again? It didn’t seem fair; this _need_ for his mortal enemy.

And yet, she still wanted his help. As Zelda’s tongue tangled with his, their mingled breath harsh in the stillness of his cavern-cage, Ganondorf smiled against her mouth. _Help_. This could be interesting. Perhaps he’d hear her out after all.


End file.
